


Hands-On

by FuchsiaMae



Category: BioShock Infinite
Genre: F/M, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Fisting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2019-08-20 01:56:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16546598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuchsiaMae/pseuds/FuchsiaMae
Summary: Rosalind experiments with Robert's hands.(Originally ported to Tumblr 06/06/13)





	Hands-On

His hands were everywhere. On her breasts, fondling and squeezing, teasing her nipples to pert pink nubs—on her stomach and hips, pinning her firmly in his lap—one strong arm wrapped around her waist as he bit at her neck, and she squirmed against him as tingling desire flooded through her. Everywhere her body needed, even before she knew she needed it, he was there. She moaned, hot lust coiling in her core, and he was there too—his hands slid up the insides of her thighs, making her shiver, and she gasped softly as his fingers brushed her slit. 

“Wet,” he observed dispassionately.

She retorted in a shaky voice, “Perceptive.” Even intense arousal couldn’t stop her snark.

“Cheeky,” he murmured, and gave the underside of her thigh a firm squeeze. He laughed as she let out a moan.

“ _Robert_ —”

“Rosalind?”

His fingers traced her slit again, with just the lightest touch, and she bit her lip. He was infuriating—and he knew exactly what her body wanted. “ _Robert_ …”

“Yes?  _Dear_  sister?”

His fingertip rubbed slow circles around her clitoris, softer and harder and softer again, and his breath on her shoulder sent shivers all the way down her spine. In a way it was like touching herself—more than in a way, she supposed—but better. So,  _so_  much better. Her own hands had always been swift and businesslike. His were deliciously, tortuously slow.

She reached for one breast, and simultaneously he went to the other, squeezing her roughly in his massive palm. With a whimper she opened her legs wider, and she could sense his smile as he kissed teasingly up her neck—but all he did between her thighs was lay his long fingers over her, lightly cupping her pubic bone, nothing more.

“Please…” she whispered.

“Hm?”

“ _Please_ , Robert…”

“I’m hardly a mind-reader, Rosalind,” he scolded lightly, as his middle finger eased her lips apart. He didn’t enter her, but stroked her slit up and down, slicking his fingertip with her wetness. “Tell me what you want.” A whimper escaped her as he circled her clit again. “Hmm?”

“Bully.”

“Hardly.”

“Get  _on_  with it.”

“Not having fun?” His finger dipped into her, just up to the first knuckle—just enough to tease her entrance and make her gasp. Another finger joined the first. “I’ll stop if you want me to.”

Her mouth couldn’t even form a protest. With a wordless groan, she squirmed against him, aching for a deeper touch. He knew what she needed, but he needed her to say it. “More.”

“More?” He slid a third finger in and pushed deeper.

“Aaaahhhhh…”

Her eyes squeezed shut as she felt him enter. He stroked her opening with his fingertips, tracing circles inside her with a dexterous touch, as if playing the rim of a wineglass. Her breath hitched every time he skimmed her clit. Each brush between his hand and her tiny bundle of nerves jolted through her like lightning, toe-curling and electric—but it still wasn’t enough. He kept his strokes shallow just to torment her, enough to tease but not to satisfy, and they both knew it.  With a low whine, she rocked her hips impatiently onto his hand.

He chuckled in her ear. “Eager.”

The smugness dripping from his tone incensed her, but the most she could do was growl weakly and clench her thighs around his wrist. He was absolutely aware of the agony she was in, and he loved to be the cause of it.

“More?” She could hear him smirking.

He anticipated her answer, and the quiet desperation in her plea. She didn’t disappoint—and he relished it. “ _More_.”

As his fourth digit joined the others he eased inside her just as deep as she needed. She let out a moan as he found her g-spot.

“Aaaa- _aaahhhhh_ …”

Her head lolled back against his shoulder, and a few light kisses on her neck sent a shiver of sparks down her spine to the fierce heat between her legs. His fingers curled inside her, and he nipped playfully at her ear as his hand gave her a squeeze. The long, low sigh that escaped her sounded like the groan of an animal. Her hips bucked onto him, again and again, and as she rode his fingers he matched her with an easy rhythm of clenching and relaxing his hold. The paired pressure on her g-spot and clit felt blissfully intense. He felt so good, this man who was her and was not—foreign yet intimate, new yet familiar, a stranger she’d just met whom she’d known all her life. A man whose fingerprints matched her own, and whose nimble fingers drew pleasure from her body like Mozart from piano keys.

She felt herself nearing climax as she focused on those nimble fingers. They moved smoothly and easily, slicked with her wetness, coaxing whimpers out of her with every expert touch. Her body shuddered with sensation, from the firestorm in her belly to her flexing legs to the shivers in her toes—she was about to say harder, faster, but before the words could form on her tongue his hand obeyed and she nearly howled with it— _yes, yes, YES_ —

And then, in a burst of reckless fervor, an idea flashed across her mind.

Her eyes sprang open.

“Wait—wait, wait.”

Her voice was weak and shaky, but he heard, and his fingers went still. “Hm?”

“More.”

“Er. More?”

“Mmmh.” Her soft groan was an affirmative, and her own guiding grip on his wrist made her meaning clear. This was the first thing she’d said that surprised him—she felt his hesitation and ground her hips against him, impatient. “Please, Robert.”

Still he faltered. “This is, er—as much as I can do, I think.”

“You have a hand, don’t you?”

“Excuse me?” Again she grabbed his hand and pressed him hard between her legs. “Are you sure—?”

“That you have a hand? Yes, quite.”

“I—I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m not made of glass!” Her retort was sharp-edged at being disobeyed—but then her voice went soft and low, and she let him hear her need. “Robert. Please.”

Slowly his hand slid out of her, and slowly, slowly, she felt him ease back in, all five fingers pinched tight and small. It was simple at first, with her wet slit eager to open for him—then his knuckles met the rim of her entrance, pressing into her, stretching her—a whimper escaped her lips at the sudden pain, but she wasn’t about to stop.

“Are you alright?”

“Keep going.”

With a gradual push his knuckles slipped through, and she let out another whimper as he slid in all the way. Her eyes ventured down, and saw that his whole hand disappeared into her, up to the wrist. The sight made her insides boil with excitement. His hand was so  _big_. She’d seen his palm dwarf her own when he held it, felt the weight of it on her body, but this was something else. He filled her completely, more than she ever thought she could take, and the ache of him within her felt exquisite.

At first he didn’t dare move. His hand stayed frozen still, letting her adjust, not wanting to hurt her—but gradually she began to grind on him again. Every tiny movement felt intense. His fingers shifted, and she bit her lip as something—a knuckle, or a thumb—found her g-spot again. Her body stiffened in his arms.

“Certain you’re alright?”

She nodded breathlessly, helplessly, desperate for more of that feeling, and he took the hint. His thumb moved just the tiniest bit, massaging the sweet spot inside her—

“ _Aaaaaaaahhhhhh_ —”

And at the same time, his other hand curved around her hip to rub her clit—

“ _AAAHH_ —!”

And a powerful orgasm seized her at the core, vibrating down to her toes in wave after wave of sensation, hitting her over and over until she felt nothing but white-hot bliss. His hands slowed and strengthened their motion, prolonging the climax, letting her ride it to its conclusion—until at last she went limp against him, weak and spent.

He listened to her panting breath ease, and after another long moment carefully withdrew from her. “Alright?”

She could barely think. Her muscles trembled at the slightest move, so she didn’t move them, lying still in his arms. Everything between her legs ached. It felt  _amazing_.

Her reply was barely a breath. “ _Yes_.”

As her head lay against his shoulder, waiting for her racing heart to slow, he lifted his fingers to his lips and began to lick them. His twin’s wetness, and knowing he’d drawn it from her, made a pleasing reward. A quiver ran through her as she opened her eyes and saw. She took his perfect hand from him and kissed it, tasting herself on his skin—slick and wet, so wet, from so much need. She sucked lightly at each of his fingertips as he watched, fascinated. Enthralled by this enchanting mirror of himself.

Her lips finished cleaning him, and her eyes met his, and they shared a tender kiss, both mouths tasting of sex. “And what’s the verdict on this experiment?” he asked with a smile.

“Favorable. Bears repeating.”

They kissed again.


End file.
